I think back to the Gordon wedding. How I truly thought I could keep it casual. How it wasn’t until after he’d rocked my socks off on a couch in a back room that I realized I wanted to go home with him. How I’d said things I couldn’t take back. And in the afterglow, he’d looked at me like no one else had ever in my life. Like he agreed. Like my words meant something to him, instead of just pleasurable mumbling. It made me question if it was just mumbling, or if I’d meant it.
